


Take me back to the basics and the simple life

by booksandanime



Series: The way that I am [2]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: "It's just a nemesis thing" is Baz's favorite thing to say, And is such a drama queen with fangs, Baz has more gay thoughts, He has low self-esteem, Hurry up and realize that Baz, M/M, Simon has perfect timing, Simon needs to be protected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-04-28 18:46:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5101715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksandanime/pseuds/booksandanime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baz figures out what to do with his feelings, and finds out that sometimes love doesn't come from seeing people at their best. It comes from seeing them come so close to breaking, that you realize you don't want them to.</p><p>And he finds out that all he really wanted was to be the one to complete Simon Snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take me back to the basics and the simple life

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, school was quite draining, but I'm back, it's the weekend, have a SnowBaz fic. =]
> 
> Title inspired by this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aAt1m1lQK3w  
> Quick notes:  
> 1\. Baz is fifth year here.  
> 2\. They already fought with the chimera (Edit)  
> 3\. Baz is already in love with Simon.
> 
> That's it. =]

It had been days since his latest disclosure (revelation, heart attack, nightmare), and not much had changed really.

He and Snow were still at each other's throats, they were still enemies, and Snow was still a moron. But of course, Baz knew that a lot had changed. He had settled back into their usual spats, and it was easier to look at Simon now, because he finally knew what he was feeling.

_Love._

It had become easier not to physically flinch (or vomit) at the word, whether it was a passing thought, or a late-night contemplation. (The latter happened more frequently than the former, because since when did Simon Snow ever settle for anything as low as a passing thought in people's minds?)

What didn't change though, was his need. His need to be closer, to touch him, to have Simon smile at him, to hold Simon close and never let him go...

In some ways, it was even stronger than his thirst for blood, but it was definitely more embarrassing.

Sometimes, he would lie awake at night, staring at Simon, and wondering what he did to develop feelings for him. He probably did something wrong somewhere on the way here, because who ever heard of a twisted vampire having the hots for the hero who was supposed to kill him? (It sounded like the opposite of Twilight, or maybe just a twisted, gay version of it.)

Whichever way he thought of it, he knew that this story, (if it was one) was bound to be a tragedy. There were too many things that were wrong with the story, his family name for one. The Mage, Simon, the world, gossip, and life being another.

(If Baz were honest with himself, though, he'd admit that none of those mattered, because he always got what he wanted.)

And right now, it seemed that Baz would want Simon Snow for the rest of his sorry life.

\------------------------------------------------------  
  
Baz didn't have anything against Simon following him, in fact, he even liked it up to some point, but he did have something against Snow following him everywhere, everyday, and anytime.

He was sure that if Simon didn't stop, Baz would either, a.) Kiss him, or b.) Bite him.

Baz probably should have worried about his choices, but that was just how far gone his life was, that he had to have these kinds of options.  
  
Besides, he bloody well couldn't kill him, the obvious reason being that Simon still needed to kill the Insidious Humdrum.  ( _That's all,_ was what he said to convince himself.)  
  
Not like he would be affected or something, of course not, evil nemesis' never felt bad about killing the hero. This was tact, strategy, a part of the master plan. (He just wasn't sure who was kidding who.)  
  
Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he just let Simon catch him. Just stop the whole facade, let Simon know that he was a vampire, and all that. Wasn't that what villains did in the old stories? Reveal that they had a tragic past, which explains why they became the sort of person that everyone hated, and successfully get his pity?  
  
Though, maybe Snow would just kill him on the spot, save everyone all the trouble. Or, maybe he'd gloat before killing him, something like, " _I knew you were a vampire!"  
  
_ And then Baz would probably kiss him, just because. (He had to indulge himself just before death, after all.) (Maybe if Simon didn't kill him after that, he'd kill himself, dying with the knowledge that he had just kissed his worst enemy. )  
  
Or maybe he wouldn't die, because of the fact that he was a vampire, and technically immortal. Crowley, would he still kiss Snow even without a dramatic death? Sort of ruined the whole effect.   
  
(The effect being courageously setting fire to himself because of his being a coward and a failure, which would just exemplify the fact that he was such a  _coward and a failure.)_  
  
Baz stiffened as Simon came too close to the part of the catacombs where he was hiding in. He had cast a " _Nothing to see here_ ", earlier, but he couldn't help wondering if he should just lift it. Lift it, wait for Snow to come in, then just stare at him until he either goes off, or leaves. (Frankly, both of the options make Baz's gut twist in an uncomfortable way.)   
  
He doesn't want Snow to find him; but he doesn't want him to leave him either. He doesn't like Simon trailing after him, always suspicious of his motives; but he doesn't want him to stop going after him.   
  
He hates this cycle, he hates how it makes him out to be so dependent, he hates how he needs Simon Snow like he needs to drink blood. It's always there, that gnawing raw  _thirst_ for him, something that can never be satisfied, because really, how can it?   
  
It will never be solved, not in the numerous ways Baz can think of. But he's always been an optimist, and there's a part of him that won't let him try to forget about his feelings so easily.   
  
And Baz is too tired to fight it, so as soon as he hears Simon's footsteps leaving, he goes back up a few minutes later, and makes sure that he's clean before he climbs into his bed, and falls asleep, dreaming of blue eyes and a mouth pressed flush against his.  
  
\---------------------------------------------------  
  
There are times when Baz has the room to himself, and he takes the chance to either fall asleep, or study.   
  
(And think about Simon.)  
  
He contemplates the difficult business of loving a messy roommate, and a heroic nemesis.   
  
Sometimes, Baz wonders exactly how he got into this situation, how he managed to fall in love with Simon. Was it when he shook his hand, just after the Crucible cast them together? Was it when Simon cried that time in second year, for some reason that Baz still didn't know? Was it when he unsuccessfully tried to kill Simon with a chimera? Was it when Simon didn't kill him, even after numerous attempts on Baz's part?  
  
When did he stop hating him, and start feeling something... _more?  
  
_ Because falling in love with Simon wasn't something that could be traced back. Baz would have to look at all the times they argued, all the times they tried to kill each other, all the times Baz had wished that he wasn't a vampire, just so that he could off himself.   
  
There was too much bitterness there, and a lot of antagonism, how could he find something as contrary as love?   
  
But wait. Maybe it wasn't so impossible after all. There was one person he could go to, someone who had withstood all of his complaints about Snow, someone who had answers.   
  
And he wouldn't see her until this weekend.   
  
Baz briefly entertained the thought of taking the rest of the week off, but that would mean skipping classes, and he needed to study more than he needed answers.   
  
Soon. He could deal with this mess of feelings for a little more time.   
  
\---------------------------------------------------  
  
As soon as the week is done, Baz sighs in relief. He got through it, with a few arguments here and there, but nothing major.   
  
Homework was given, but Baz finished them as soon as they were given, so it's not a problem for him.   
  
His problem right now is the fact that Snow. Is. Not. Letting. Him. Go.   
  
"Where are you going?" Simon asks.   
  
"To our mansion." Baz says, making sure to give emphasis on the last word, knowing that it would just irritate him.   
  
It does. "Why?" He persists.  
  
_So I can go and ask my aunt why I'm fucking gay for you, why else?_ Baz thinks. "Because I have important affairs to discuss with my family, why else?"   
  
Simon narrows his eyes. "Are you going to discuss your plan to off me and the Mage?"   
  
"No, we always save that for Christmas break, it's our equivalent of exchanging presents. It always makes them a little bit happier when I give them a little more information on the most successful way to kill you two." Baz sneers.  
  
"I'm on to you." Simon warns, his hand hovering near his belt; getting ready to call his sword out.   
  
"Just wait until I'm actually gone before you go running to the Mage, alright?" Baz says, bored.   
  
Simon reddens, probably from anger. Baz raises an eyebrow, and leaves, before he could do or say anything rash.   
  
Safely outside their room, Baz can feel Snow so close to going off. The air is becoming humid, and some of his power is rolling off of him.   
  
He quickly leaves before it can get worse.   
  
\-------------------------------------------  
  
The trip home took an hour and a half. Baz wasn't in a hurry, and the Mansion was quite far from Watford.   
  
The car pulls up in front of the mansion, and Baz turns off the ignition. He sits back in his seat, wondering if he should have an excuse for being there, then decides that he could just tell his family the same lie he told Simon; that he had the beginnings of a plan to finally off Simon and the Mage. And to do it, he needed to discuss some key points with his aunt.   
  
He strolls up the driveway, confidently, and knocks, once, on the door. The maid opens it, and immediately greets him, holding the door open, respectfully.   
  
He strides in like he owns the place, which is half true, and he immediately goes to the dining room, where his stepmom is.   
  
"Basil." Daphne says, with a hint of surprise.   
  
"Hello." Baz says, bending his head forward slightly into a half-nod.   
  
"We weren't expecting you. Your father isn't home." Daphne informs him.   
  
"It's fine. I hope to have more information before he comes back." Baz says.   
  
"Oh? About...  _the plan?_ " Daphne asks.   
  
Baz raises an eyebrow. He knows she doesn't like talking about the Families' plan to take over the council. She agrees with the goal, but she can't say the same for the Families' methods on how to get it.   
  
More than once, he catches her complaining to his father about all of the plans, all of the deaths, and all of the violence needed before they could actually accomplish anything. It felt  _wrong,_ to have to sacrifice so many people, was what she always argued.   
  
_I can't even remember what "_ right"  _is anymore,_ _His father would joke.  
  
_ (But sometimes Baz wonders if it isn't all a joke.)  
  
"Something like that." Baz says, nodding.   
  
Daphne opens her mouth, and there's one moment where Baz thinks she's going to say "good luck." Then she closes it, and just nods, turning back to her work.   
  
Baz takes it as his cue to leave, so he does.   
  
\-------------------------------------------------  
  
He finds Fiona in his room, sitting on the edge of the bed, almost as if she was waiting for him.   
  
"Basil." She says.   
  
"Fiona. What are you doing in my room?" Baz asks.   
  
"Looking for inappropriate magazines, what else?" Fiona asks, waggling her eyebrows.  
  
"You know I have no interest in those kinds of things." Baz says, unimpressed.  
  
"Also looking for blackmail material; diaries filled with deep dark secrets and forbidden longings." Fiona continues.  
  
"This is why you don't have a love life." Baz says, shaking his head.   
  
"Brat." Fiona said, frowning.   
  
"Anyway, if you don't have a specific reason for being in my room, I want to ask you something." Baz says, wondering if this was going to turn out well.   
  
"Really? That's new. Spill." Fiona commands.  
  
"Do you have any memories of me complaining about Simon?" Baz asks.   
  
"Ooh, boyo, do I _have any_? You might as well ask me if I've never dated before!" Fiona barks, laughing.   
  
Baz just raises an eyebrow.   
  
"Of course I do." Fiona says, rolling her eyes.  
  
"That's great. Let me see." Baz demands.   
  
"Is this in any way related to the Families' plans, or do you just have a twisted personal goal?" Fiona asks.   
  
"Both. More of the latter." Baz says, deciding to say that much.   
  
"And it has something to do with that Snow brat?" Fiona asks.   
  
Baz nods.   
  
Fiona thinks for a minute. "What will you give me if I help you?"  
  
Baz had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. "I'll sneak in the Mage's office for you."  
  
"And?" Fiona asks.  
  
"You know I can't help you with your imaginary love life." Baz sneers.  
  
"You _know_ that's not what I want!" Fiona says, scowling.  
  
"Fine. I'll go along with you on the trip you're planning. The one where you want to go around, and demand people to join the Families' cause." Baz says, even though that's one of the last things that he wants to do.  
  
Fiona thinks, then nods. "With you with me, we might finally be able to persuade that stubborn Pernickles family."   
  
Baz has to exert more force to not groan out loud. He hates the Pernickles. The father is a sorry excuse for a magician, the mother is always away, and the daughter is a spoiled brat, who thinks she can have everything at the age of 7.   
  
But he guesses that he should be relieved that that was all Fiona asked for. "Alright."  
  
Fiona raises an eyebrow, then nods. "So, any specific memory you're looking for?"  
  
Baz doesn't even have to think about it. "Fourth year."   
  
First year was just petty spats between him and Simon. Second year had a more sensitive-and-prone-to-crying Simon, and a confused Baz. (Which wasn't much fun at all.) Third year was when he had tried to seriously kill him, and fourth year was the year before his current year. Strangely, he couldn't quite remember the events of last year, and he thinks that maybe there's something in the year that could be important.   
  
Fiona shrugs, then taps one of the rings that she wears on her hand. It's large, and blue, and Baz finds himself comparing it to Simon's eyes.  
  
He knows that it's a projector ring when an image appears, something thing and flat and black, like a wispy TV screen.   
  
"Remember I can't see what you're going to see, so just tell me when you're done watching." Fiona says.  
  
Baz nods, then leans forward, and thinks.   
  
\--------------------------------------------------------------  
  
_It's a bad day._  
  
_Baz can already tell, as he opens his eyes, and sees the sunlight shining on them. He growls._  
  
_He's sure his roommate did this on purpose, just to spite him. He rolls over from his position of facing the wall, and sees an empty bed. Add that with the smell of body sweat and steam, and he's pretty sure that his roommate is taking a shower._  
  
_He groans. It's too early for this. He just wants to go back to sleep, but he knows that Simon won't let him. Not because he would be concerned, but rather because he knows that Simon hates not having Baz where he can see him. Which means, in the Great Hall, just a few tables away.  
  
Baz has the urge to just not care, but he knows that that would be a sign of giving up, and there is no way he'd let Simon win.  
  
So when his roommate comes out of the shower, tips of his hair still dripping, Baz makes sure that the curtains are closed, Simon's clothes strewn all along the floor, and that at least three of his Aero Bars are spelled out of their hiding place. He's munching on one right now, and he raises an eyebrow as Simon looks over the mess that is his part of the room.  
  
He finishes nibbling on the bar in his hand, and throws the wrapper on Simon's bed. As he brushes past Snow, he can feel the smoke curling off off him, and smirks.   
  
"Morning, Snow." He cooes.   
  
"Baz, you bast-!" Simon starts to yell, but Baz slams the door to the bathroom just before he can continue his sentence.  
  
Baz still has the feeling that it's going to be a bad day, but at least he can still piss Simon off.   
  
He takes a shower, hearing Snow complain, and then a bang, which is probably his wand going off.   
  
He snickers. Yeah, Snow is no match for him.   
  
  
 *                        *                         *  
  
It's the middle of the day, and Baz is bored.   
  
Studying has always been easy for him, and this day is nothing different.   
  
The teacher is saying something about chemical reactions and formulas, and Simon is trying his best to understand what he's saying. He scribbles something down, and when Baz glances over, he sees a lot of unintelligible scribbles, and a page 85% filled with doodles.   
  
He snorts. "You call that note taking, Snow?"  
  
"Sod off, I'm trying to understand the lesson. I _ do  _want to pass, you know." Simon says, angrily.  
  
__"Could've fooled me." Baz mocks.  
  
__Simon's steaming again, and Baz is delighted. The day is progressing nicely; he's not bored anymore.  
  
__"What do you want, Baz?" Simon asks, his handwriting become harder to read with each sentence.  
  
"I want to understand how you can write essays with that kind of handwriting." Baz says.  
  
"This is Chem, Baz, not penmanship." Simon retorts.  
  
"Glad to see you're paying attention, Snow." Baz says, dryly.  
  
Simon glares at him, and dumps a bottle's contents in the glass tube in front of him. "Come on and help me already."  
  
"First of all, you're not doing that correctly. You should add sage, and not argula. Plus, don't write down that you want to transform objects into food, it's very unsanitary." Baz says, wrinkling his nose at Simon's formula.  
  
"The sage is right beside you, just bloody hand it over then!" Simon hisses.  
  
"Manners, Snow, manners. Don't think you can get off on being savage with me." Baz replies.  
  
"Crowley Baz, just hand over the sage!" Simon says.   
  
Baz rolls his eyes, then starts when Simon grabs his hand, and uses it to grab a handful of sage. He tosses it in, just as Baz says, "Wait, no, not that much, Snow-"  
  
And the experiment promptly explodes.   
  
*                      *                         *  
  
Baz's last class is geometry, and he's actually paying attention because math is fascinating.   
  
Though he has to admit, it's a bit different without Simon's usual distracting presence.   
  
After the failed attempt at Chemistry, Simon had come close to going off; the air was becoming hotter, and Baz felt as if he was slowly choking. The students around them were catching whiffs of Simon's power, and some had even fallen off their stools. The teacher was having trouble remembering his name.  
  
"Careful, Snow, don't want you going off here." Baz had said, and he knew that he made a mistake when Simon turned is blue eyes on him. There were sparks in them, and Simon had looked close to murderous. Baz wondered if that was when he was going to die.   
  
"Just freaking shut up, Baz. You don't know anything." Simon had hissed.  
  
"I do so-" Baz had started to protest.  
  
Simon had slammed his hands on the table, and the sound had snapped their teacher out of his trance. "Mr. Snow! I think you should leave, until you can calm down!"  
  
Simon had glanced at him, and the teacher had inadvertently flinched.   
  
He nodded, once, and left, leaving a literal and corporeal trail of smoke behind.   
  
Throughout the rest of the day, Baz only had two classes with Snow in them, and he hadn't shown up. This was the last class, and Baz wasn't sure if he appreciated the silence, or if he  felt suffocated by it.   
  
He answered everything with ease, and when the bell rang, he grabbed his bag, and tossing out a quick excuse to Dev and Niall, he headed out. He needed to find Snow.   
  
  
*                       *                       *  
  
He finds Snow on the football field, swinging his sword around. Usually his nemesis has very good form, but right now, it seems as if Snow is just waving his sword around with no goal at all.   
  
Sparks fly off his clothes every so often, and Baz knows that he still isn't calm.  
  
He sighs. "Snow!"  
  
Simon fumbles with his sword swinging, and slowly turns around to face him. Baz has to fight the urge not to flinch. Snow's usually curly bronze curls are now completely messed up, and his eyes have this wild look about them. Baz looks down at the tip of the sword, which is currently pointed at him.  
  
"Calm down Snow, it's just me." Baz says, then winces. He isn't exactly a comforting presence, and he wonders what made him say that.  
  
"Baz. Leave. I don't have time for this." Snow hisses.  
  
"You missed geometry. And English. Also advanced spells, and biology." Baz says, warily.  
  
"Those aren't important." Snow says, tensing up.  
  
Baz can't help it; he sneers. "What, is the Chosen One so important that he doesn't need to study anymore?"  
  
"Don't call me that." Simon says, and his grip on the sword tightens.  
  
Baz stays his ground. "Why? That's your title, isn't it? 'Chosen One'?' Isn't that what everyone believes you to be? Do you want to go and ask The Mage to give you a new title? What would you like? 'The Reputable One?' Or maybe, the 'Stalwart One?' You'll be a hit, Snow, I know you'll be."  
  
"SHUT UP!" Simon roars, and his voice is laced with enough magic that Baz does.  
  
His eyes immediately widen, and he quickly says the reverse spell. Baz stumbles, and rubs his throat.   
  
"Baz, I'm so-"  
  
"Cat got your tongue!" Baz spells, and immediately, Simon can't speak.   
  
Baz glares. "I'm not going to lift the spell until you tell me what's wrong."   
  
Simon glares back at him. Minutes pass, and Baz wonders if he can just leave Simon like this, when he nods, once.   
  
Baz raises an eyebrow. "Promise?"   
  
Simon rolls his eyes, but nods again.   
  
Baz toys with the idea of leaving Simon Snow to be a mute forever, then lifts the spell.  
  
Simon takes heaving gasps. "I hate you."  
  
"Good to know, I thought I was alone in that aspect." Baz says, dryly.   
  
Simon doesn't reply, and avoids Baz's gaze. "So? What do you want?"  
  
"I want to know what's bothering you." Baz says.  
  
Simon rolls his eyes. "Why? So that you can go and tell your family that Simon Snow is a coward with too many flaws and weaknesses, and that he'll be an easy target?"  
  
"It's weird hearing you refer to yourself in the third person." Baz says.  
  
Simon growls. "So? What are you waiting for? Go. Find the Mage, find your friends, and tell everyone who wants to know. Tell them that the Chosen One was wrongly chosen, and that I'm just a fool that is in love with the idea that I might be something special, because in reality, I am the exact opposite. I'm just someone that the Mage chose because he thought that I could control my power, and... I can't, Baz. I just can't."  
  
Simon's voice wavers at the end, and when Baz moves closer, Simon whips his head to face him. Baz blinks when he sees the tears dripping down Simon's face. He wonders why he doesn't rub them away, then understands that Simon doesn't want to show any more weakness than he already has.  
  
Baz sighs. "Crowley Snow, must you make everything so hard?"  
  
Simon glares, and opens his mouth, but whatever he's going to say next is muffled by the white handkerchief that Baz shoves on him. "Here. Dry your eyes."  
  
Simon looks at the hanky with a suspicious glance, until Baz reassures him that no, he didn't put poisonous gas on it. Simon stares at it, then at him, and seeing that Baz is serious, he starts to wipe his face with it.  
  
He blows his nose on it, and Baz winces at the loud noise he produces.   
  
"...Thanks." Simon says, holding the hanky in his hands, awkwardly.  
  
"Don't mention it. Seriously, don't." Baz says, frowning.  
  
"Can I ask why you helped me?" Simon asks.  
  
"No." Baz snaps.  
  
Simon flinches, and Baz immediately feels bad. "Ok."  
  
Baz is quiet for a minute, then he says, "I don't know. I didn't really plan on comforting you. Maybe my mind's already got a plan, and part of that plan is to comfort you, maybe gain your trust for some other nefarious purpose."  
  
Simon snorts. "Sure."  
  
"You don't believe me?" Baz asks, pretending to be hurt.  
  
"Strangely, I do. I think you're telling the truth, Baz." Simon says, as if saying this out loud will make it sound less crazy than it actually is.   
  
"I'm touched, Snow. I've always wanted my nemesis' trust just before I off him." Baz sneers.  
  
Simon rolls his eyes. "Anyway, I'm going to head back. I need to catch up on studies."  
  
"Hmm." Baz says.  
  
"You're helping me." Simon says, and brushes past him.  
  
"Huh?" Baz asks, slowly.  
  
"I said you're helping me. Now come on, I want to take a shower before I study. I feel like hell." Simon says.   
  
Baz turns around to retort, and stops. Simon is smiling at him. A real smile.   
  
Baz vaguely wonders if this is Simon's new attack; pretending to be defenseless, then catching him off guard with a genuine smile.   
  
But then he remembers Simon's red eyes, his shaking voice, his wild voice, and how scared he was when he thought that Simon was breaking right in front of him.   
  
Compared to that, the smile right now is wonderful.   
  
"...sure." Baz says, and this time, Simon grins.   
  
Baz wonders if he can get away with asking for something in return for studying with him.   
  
Would not killing him work? And if Simon agreed, he'd ask for a smile. Or maybe just an Aero bar. The mint one from earlier was delicious.  
  
  
*                            *                             *  
  
Later, when he's in bed, he glances over at Simon's passed out form on his bed. His arms and legs are flung all over the place, and his face is turned towards him. His bronze curls are springy again, and his mouth is open in a snore.   
  
Baz knows what he wants now.   
  
He wants Simon to never break again.   
  
(He wonders if it's selfish to ask for that.)  
  
But as he rolls over to face the wall, he thinks about how what he'll do, just to keep Simon from worrying about being the Chosen One. He wants Simon to think about him, worry about him, and smile at him. Everything else and everyone else is unimportant.   
  
(Well, Bunce would probably throw a fit if he really did that, and besides, it's irrational to think about your nemesis in that kind of way.)  
  
He tells himself that it's just a rash decision of the night, and falls asleep.   
  
(It still doesn't explain how, in the next few days, Baz always seems to observe Simon. He knows he's checking for eye bags, or a hint of depression, but he seems as cheery, and as clumsy, as always.)  
  
Baz is satisfied. He thinks that he should be wondering why the welfare of his roommate is so important to him, but he brushes it off.   
  
It's just a nemesis thing.   
  
(Because he can't think of what else it can be.)  
  
And, he thinks, he doesn't want to know.   
  
Just being here (and fighting with Simon) is more than enough for him.  
  
\-------------------------------------------------------  
  
_ "Done." Baz croaks out, and immediately, the screen vanishes.   
  
Fiona looks at him curiously. "Boyo? You're shaking."  
  
"Out of excitement." Baz lies.  
  
Fiona's look turns pointed, but she just sighs. "Well, I'll come back later to collect my fee. Just sit here or something, ok? Process whatever you saw, and if it helps you defeat the Mage, all the better."  
  
Baz manages a nod, and Fiona pats Baz's hand awkwardly, then leaves.  
  
Baz sits on his bed. He remembers now, he remembers the fear he felt at that time, and the confusion. The only other time he had seen Simon cry was at the beginning of second year, and that was more of sniffles, and sad sobs. That crying though... it was full of anger, and of hate, but not at him. It was directed at himself.   
  
Suddenly all Baz wants to do is call him, and ask how he's doing, because being apart from him, even if it's just been a day, is killing him.   
  
He fingers his cellphone, and wonders.  
  
He jumps when the phone rings, and when he glances down at the ID, he sees that it's an unknown number.   
  
He furrows his eyebrows. "Hello?" He says, all curt and business like. "This is the Pitch household."  
  
"Baz?" Simon asks.   
  
Baz's eyes widen. "Snow?"  
  
"Um, hi." He says, awkwardly.  
  
"How'd you get my number?" Baz asks.   
  
"Penelope helped me." is all Simon says.   
  
"Ah." Baz says, because he can imagine Bunce doing that. "So."  
  
"So?" Simon asks.   
  
Baz has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Why did you call me?"  
  
"Oh. Well, um, I don't know." Simon admits.  
  
Baz pinches the bridge of his nose, and breathes. "Well then, if that's all, I'll just-"  
  
"I had a feeling. It was weird, but I thought that there was something wrong with you, and I wanted to talk to you, but I didn't know how, so Penelope suggested that I call you, and she helped me find your number, and I called you, so..." Simon says, trailing off.  
  
"Well, here I am." Baz says, dryly, then internally cursed. What was he doing, why did he have to keep acting like this?  
  
"Yes, there you are." Simon agrees. "So, um, are you sure you're alright? I know that you're actually really crazy sometimes, and I don't know how 'alright' you can get, because you always sneer at me, or act really bored, and-"  
  
"Crowley Snow, you're rambling." Baz says, and he's glad that Simon isn't there to see the stupid grin on his face.  
  
Mumbling.   
  
"What? Speak up, Snow, I can't hear you." Baz says, which is a lie. He can hear him perfectly. His inhales and exhales, both breathy, and both sending shivers down Baz's spine; the uncertainty in his normally confident voice; and the sound of sheets rustling.   
  
"I said that I'll go now." Simon says.   
  
"Oh. Ok." Baz says, and tries not to sound disappointed.   
  
"But, I'll call you again later. To, you know, interrupt whatever evil plan you're hatching, because that's my job, as your nemesis." Simon says, simply.  
  
"People don't usually say that they're going to wreck other people's plans; they just do it." Baz says, amused.  
  
"Oh. Well. I'm still going to do it." Simon says, stubbornly.   
  
"Sure." Baz says.  
  
"And you can't protest- wait, what?" Simon asks.   
  
Baz rolls his eyes. "I said 'sure', Snow."  
  
"Oh, well, that's... goodbye." Simon says, awkwardly.  
  
"Goodbye." Baz says.  
  
Simon hangs up.  
  
Baz is left staring at the phone in his hand, and wondering if Simon has telepathy or something.  
  
Then, he decides that it's just a nemesis thing, and leaves it at that.  
  
(But the smile on his face states otherwise.)

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Quick note: Pernickles is a made up name. 
> 
> 2\. "It's just a nemesis thing". Pfft, Baz, DENIAL MUCH? 
> 
> 3\. This is really really cheesy, but also the longest SnowBaz fic I've written so far, and I'm happy.
> 
> 4\. Please comment, I'm always here if you want to talk, or rant, or whatever. =] (Your comments always make my day.)


End file.
